


This Time, You Gotta Take It Easy

by orphan_account



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2018/19 season, 2019/20 Season, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Fuckbuddies, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21981040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He’d love to say it’s just buddies, just lineys that gel in that special way that doesn’t come around all that often, but then Elias will grin at him the way Brock almost never sees off ice and it feels like it’s for him and- there it is. Every time. That telltale heaviness that settles low in his gut, the way his heart ticks up, makes him itch with the need to chase that feeling, make Elias laugh, keep it going.Definitely not just buddies, then.
Relationships: Brock Boeser/Elias Pettersson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 148
Collections: Hockey Holidays 2019





	This Time, You Gotta Take It Easy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littleconnections](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleconnections/gifts).



> Why yes, I _did_ take the title for this fic from a Spice Girls song, thank you for asking.
> 
> * the timeline is a little hand-wavy, but I tried to keep it mostly 'canon'  
> 
> * Goldie is temporarily a dick, but he gets it right, eventually  
> 
> * fully divergent after the Oilers/Canucks game on the 24th  
> 
> * I'm imagining Boeser's cabin to be way more rustic than it probably is, for the sake of Romance™

Something about this year feels special. 

Not, like, Stanley Cup special, they’re not leading the division or anything, though they’re definitely doing better than last year. Still, it’s not quite that- it’s more that there’s a chemistry that wasn’t there before. Something in the air, in the locker room, that’s clicking in a way they hadn’t quite managed up until now. The type of special something you build a team around, Brock knows.

Maybe it’s because it’s so collective, so obvious it’s nearly tangible, that it takes him a while to realize that he might be feeling it a little more, a little different, than most of his teammates. That there might be something- someone, in particular, that’s making it so.

Maybe that’s why it takes him even longer to catch on to the fact that he might not be the only one. 

•

_They’re all getting ready to head out to some dive in Tampa Stetcher swears by when he spots Petey, hanging back, and knows he’s hoping to go unnoticed long enough they’ll leave without him._

_Not gonna happen._

_“Hey, kid.” He grins to himself as he leans against the wall next to Elias, watching it get his hackles up exactly how he hoped it would.  
_ _“Two-year difference, Brock.” He grumps.  
_ _“Two very wise years.”  
_ _“Two years of-“ He gets a pinched look on his face that Brock knows means he’s searching for the right word, normally he might try to help him out, but-  
_ _“Excellence? Beauty? Wisdom? Absolute-“  
_ _“Idiocy.” Elias deadpans, Brock can’t help laughing._

_“You should come out with us, man.” He nudges, once he’s stopped and Elias is still grinning to himself. “Help me bully Z into a rematch.” For a moment Elias looks like he’s going to protest, but Brock jostles him a little with his shoulder and even though he huffs about it like he’s being seriously put-upon, Brock can see the resistance leaving him.  
_ _“You don’t get tired of losing. It’s strange.”  
_ _“Ouch, man. You’re supposed to have my back, you’re my rookie!”  
_ _“I am not your rookie. You are basically still a rookie.”  
_ _“No way-“  
_ _“Yes way-"_

_They shove at each other till they’re both red in the face and when Brock drags Elias up to catch up with the rest of the guys, he doesn’t hesitate to follow._

_It’s not until later, when he’s eyeing the dartboard with only mostly steady vision, amidst aforementioned rematch, that Z points anything out._

_“Surprised you got the rookie out. Even Goldie couldn’t manage.”_

•

_He fills the story on his private snap with pictures of he and Petey out for the day. In theory, they’re clothes shopping, but it’s feeling more and more like an excuse for Elias to spend the day chirping him for his sense of style by the minute._

_It should probably bother him at least a little._

_He’s not trying, or anything, but when he sees Elias goes a little pink in the cheeks looking at his phone, it’s possible he might lean a little further to the side to the side than necessary to catch a glimpse of whatever’s got him blushing. Looks like he’s talking to Goldie_

> _👀_

> _Is Brock your new favourite?_

> _I thought we had something special ((((_

•

_It’s about three months before he realizes they’ve been having he and Elias do all of their PR stuff together. It’s- he’s not complaining, he actually kind of loves it, but he does eventually approach PR about it, wondering if maybe they should be branching out, a little. Team bonding, and shit._

_“You’re linemates, it just makes sense.”_

_And yeah, that’s kind of what he’d guessed but-_

_“Besides, he’s the most comfortable around you. It’s just easier for everyone. Better for the fans.”_

_He tells himself that’s not as pleasing as it is._

•

So, yeah. Maybe Elias is a little special, and maybe- possibly- it seems like Brock might be a little special to Petey, too. 

And- well, he’d love to say it’s just buddies, just lineys that gel in that special way that doesn’t come around all that often, but then Elias will grin at him the way Brock almost never sees off ice and it feels like it’s _for_ him and- there it is. Every time. That telltale heaviness that settles low in his gut, the way his heart ticks up, makes him itch with the need to chase that feeling, make Elias laugh, keep it going. 

Definitely not just buddies, then.

•

It’s a bit hard to stop thinking about it once he starts. 

He catches himself getting a little too lost in the fall of Elias’ hair, staring a little too long at his hard-earned smiles, always teetering on the edge of a smirk, leaning in a little closer, more often, than he ever really needs to. It’d almost be enough to be embarrassing if it weren’t for the fact that Elias never seems to mind. Not one bit.

•

•

•

Everything inside Elias’ mind feels suffocating right now, tearing itself in two oscillating between the determination to fight for every last point they can scrape out of the season and the burning, ugly desire to just get the season over with and be done with it. They’ve still got half a season to play but things aren’t looking good. On his worst days, he wonders why they’re even playing, thinks they’re already as good as out of contention and that’s- he doesn’t need to be thinking that way or it might as well be true. 

He’s got to get out of his head. 

•

Brock’s already in their room when he gets there, looking unusually defeated where he’s splayed out on the bed, flipping aimlessly through channels. He does brighten visibly when Elias comes in and- shit, he really hopes he’s not about to ruin that. 

“Brock.” He doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands so he shoves them in the front pocket of his hoodie, hoping he doesn’t look too obviously rattled. Brock’s smiling, a bit confused, but he doesn’t seem to have picked up on how weird Elias is feeling.  
“What’s up, Petey?”

Elias doesn’t say anything, is suddenly unsure of _how_ to say it, but he can’t not-

“Goldie thinks you like me.” Brock goes just a little too still, expression suddenly a little too tight to pull off calm.  
“Course I like you, Petey-“  
“No. Not like that.” The grin drops and there’s something a little alarmed creeping in around the edges of his eyes that Elias hates. This is confirmation enough, though. It’s exactly what he’d barely admitted to himself he’d been hoping for, makes it easier to shut down the part of his mind that reminds him his actions have consequences and say what he says next.  
“Would you-“ He can’t quite manage the brashness to ask outright. Hopes Brock understands him, he usually seems to know what Elias can never manage to say. “If I asked?” 

For a minute Brock feels more pensive than Elias often sees him, but then he’s getting up slow, face serious and- something else. Something new.

“Are you, asking?” The air between them feels heavy.  
“Yeah.” Elias nods, swallowing hard. This all feels suddenly very, very real, electricity prickling at his nerves when Brock steps closer, feeling aware of every bit of distance closed. “Yes. I’m asking.” He repeats, firmer.

•

Brock steps in to pull him down for a kiss and Elias wants- god, he wants, but- 

He ducks away at the last moment to taste the skin of Brock’s neck, instead.

•

When they’re done, he barely gives himself time to catch his breath before he practically runs for the washroom. Feels like if he lets himself lie down next to Brock he might not get back up again, and he can’t do that. This can’t be like that.

Once he’s showered and his mind is gone quiet, he tucks himself into his own bed and counts the seconds until Brock has to say something.

“Did I- uh. You good?”  
“Yeah.” He’s pleased with how solid his voice comes out. “You?”  
“Yeah, I guess I’m- um. I’m good.”

They don’t speak again. He can feel the way Brock is confused, maybe even worried. Or worse, hurt, but he just- can’t. 

•

•

•

“You’re definitely not good, you know that, right?”

Brock says nothing, just reaches for the remote to turn up his marathon of GBB, doesn’t manage before Tanev snatches it out of his hand and shuts the TV off entirely. 

“Dude, come on. Why didn’t you just say anything?” Brock sighs and resists the desire to bury his face in the cushions. “I mean- you guys seem close? Like- not like that, but just- you’re friends, right? Good enough friends to talk about more?"  
“We were- we are, I guess. Just not- like, I thought it was something it wasn’t-“  
“Are you sure?” And he sounds so sure, it takes serious effort not to be snappy with his reply.  
“He didn’t even look at me after?”  
“Okay but you felt it right? Like, during?” Tanev sounds uncomfortable but determined and Brock guesses if he’s willing to sit through the discomfort to help him feel better, then he can suck it up and let him. Appreciates it, really.  
“Yeah.”  
“And he did, too?”  
“I mean, I thought so. He didn’t say anything but- we usually get each other, you know? Like- same as on ice. You can’t fake that stuff.”  
“Yeah, man, I know. So, do you really think you got it wrong?.”

The thing is, he really, really doesn’t. He thinks he probably should, cause Elias showered when he should’ve been catching his breath and he slept in his own bed and he wouldn’t let Brock kiss him but- but he _wouldn’t let Brock kiss him_. Brock knows what he felt, knows Elias felt it too, and he knows Elias is no coward. He wouldn’t have been afraid if there was nothing to be afraid _of_. 

“No.” He answers, firmly. “I don’t think I got it wrong."

•

He’s not going to be pushy about it or anything, but if there’s a chance Elias wants him half as much as Brock starting to realize he wants Petey, then he’ll wait as long as it takes. They’d be worth it, he knows, and he's learned better than to take a good thing for granted and let a good thing slip through his fingers.

Still, he’s got to be a bit careful. Patient. Maybe shouldn’t do that again- not that he’s even sure Elias even wants to but he knows himself and knows if he’s already feeling this way it’s not the best course of action until things are a little more concrete.

•

Naturally, not three days after he’s resolved to be careful with whatever this is- could be, it happens again.

•

They’d been pressed into the booth fairly close already, it’s a tight squeeze with a bunch of guys their size, but as the night has gone on and they’ve both had more than a couple, they’ve definitely begun leaning into each other more than they have to. Brock sees the flush high on Elias' cheeks, knows from the heat he feels his own must match. They’re not quite drunk, but he is tipsy enough to think maybe this isn’t such a bad idea- or, well, maybe it doesn’t matter, even if it is. 

Elias smirks at him and when Brock gets up and announces he’s calling himself an Uber and follows him out. 

•

In Dallas, after a hard-fought win. Both wrung out in the most satisfying way.•

In Montréal, an easy shutout and Brock can’t stop himself from insisting Elias deserves some type of _congratulations_ for his game-winning goal.

It keeps happening. 

•

•

•

Elias is a little surprised at how easy things feel, with Brock. 

He always knew, from the beginning, that Brock could mess him up. That he’s something special, something dangerously comfortable, something to worry about. Someone that could probably tear down all the walls Elias has built around himself to be able to play the sport he plays with the people he plays with. 

That’s still true, nothing’s really changed it’s just- this is easier than he expected and he’s starting to think that maybe it’s okay. Maybe he can have this much, as long as Brock is into it. He knows eventually Brock is going to find someone who he wants who wants him back and is actually willing to be what he needs, and- yeah, maybe it’ll suck a little bit, but they’re teammates and friends before anything else. It’ll be fine. 

At home, when he liked someone he shouldn’t, it was never this hard. He had his family and his friends to stop him from feeling lonely, stop the feelings from getting to heavy, and there just was never as much pressure, as much fear, surrounding the idea that it might happen anyways.

•

He tells himself it’s fine right up until Brock invites him to spend a couple weeks out at his cabin in Minnesota this summer and he’s bowled over by how badly he wants to say yes. 

Instead, he says something about to seeing how long he’s going to be in Sweden, and promises he’ll try when Brock’s face falls, can’t quite find it within himself to leave him with a hard refusal.

•

When he’s playing games with Goldie, he mentions maybe going to visit Brock during the summer and something about the way Goldie looks at him has his stomach dropping.

"He's weird about you."  
"We're just friends." Elias snaps back, feeling- feeling a lot of things, "I thought you said-"  
"I told you that so you'd be careful, Elias." Goldie sighs. "Brock is nice, but a guy like that- people will say the same thing about you, if you're not careful around him." 

Elias has known Brock’s sexuality is a bit of an open secret on the team and he’d been foolish enough to think the fact that no one really brought it up meant it was fine. It hurts. It hurts a lot, and it makes him feel like a coward. He wants to defend Brock, but he knows if he does- he’s sure Goldie will _know_ , maybe he already does, but then- Goldie is his best friend and if he says something horrible things are going to change and it’s just- it’s too much. 

He keeps playing and says nothing.

•

Brock comes up to him after practice a few days later and asks if he’s figured out if he’ll have time to visit. Elias almost forgets himself until he catches Goldie’s eyes on him and pulls himself together.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m just going to stay in Sweden this summer.”  
“Oh.”  
“I’m- it’s just, my family. It’s been a long time, you know?”  
“Yeah, man. Of course, I get that. Bummer but, y’know. I miss my parents and I already see them a lot more than you do. I get it.” And the worst part is Brock is so understanding and Elias can see how much it’s costing him. Knows him that well, by now. It feels awful. 

•

They’ve just played their second to last game of the season and Elias ends up in Brock’s bed trying not to think about how much it feels like a goodbye. 

•

Summer comes, Elias flies home to Sweden, Brock to Minnesota, they don’t really talk.

It’s not as if he’s all miserable all the time, he’s genuinely overjoyed to see his friends and family again. He’s always been independent but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t missed them dearly. Being with the people who love him and know him again after being so far is a relief. Not to mention his home, his city, his language. He’s missed it, being able to say what he wants to without having to fret over having the right words. It’s not enough to make him regret going, not ever, but it’s definitely enough to take his mind off of things.

Most of the time, at least. 

The problem is, he’ll have these moments. He’ll see something that he wishes he could tell Brock about before he remembers they’re not doing that, right now, and he both doesn’t know why at all and knows exactly why, but can’t figure out how to fix it. It’s a horrible balance. He’ll catch himself during a quiet moment alone, missing him so much it makes him ache. 

Still. He can more or less ignore it.

•

One of his old teammates comes out.

And it’s- it’s fine. 

From what Elias sees and hears, the world doesn’t collapse around him, his family doesn’t care, his friends don’t really care, maybe a few teammates are weird about it, but for the most part it’s a non-issue.

It’s not the same, it’s not the NHL, but it’s not nothing, either, and Elias is starting to wonder if he’s made a mistake somewhere along the way. 

•

“You hear about Mattias?” 

Elias goes still at the dinner table and has to remind himself to keep eating like normal. It’s his brother that’s brought it up. 

“Yeah, that’s lovely, isn’t it?” His mom replies. “That it’s gone so well for him? Just lovely.”  
“Good too hear. Good player, too, I hear?” It’s said like a question, Elias thinks it might be directed at him, but Emil answers first. A relief.  
“Yeah, faced him a few times. Quick as lightning.”  
“Any chance he plays across the pond? What’d you think, Elias? He cut out for it?”

Everyone is looking for him and he definitely opens his mouth meaning to say something normal, something about Mattias' play, but what comes out instead is “What if it was me?”  
“What if what was you?” Emil asks, mouth still full. Both of his parents are looking at him now, though, and Elias heart is beating in his throat.  
“What if- what if it was me. What if I was- what if I came out?”

Everyone’s quiet for a moment before his mother reaches out across the table to cup his cheek. “Sweetheart, of course we don’t care.” And her voice is gone soft but there’s nothing but sincerity in her eyes- it’s- god, he never really thought they’d react badly, but to be faced with a reaction so immediately opposite of everything Elias had feared- Emil’s throwing an arm around him while his vision goes a bit watery as his dad reaches out to grip his shoulder tight, reassuring as he can be without dragging Elias across the table into a hug.

•

“Is this why you’ve been so mopey, all summer?” Emil asks once everyone has gathered themselves again, jostling him in a way that makes things feel normal, feel better, and Elias laughs as he blinks back the tears threatening to gather under his eyes as their father reaches out to cuff his brother round the head.  
“Shut up, I wasn’t moping.”  
“You were definitely moping.”

•

Things slip back into something regular, after that, but his brother stays sitting close, like he wants to reassure him, and everyone pulls him into a hug when they’re cleaning up afterwards, before he leaves to go back to his own apartment with Emil. 

It feels surreal. Something he’s hardly even admitted to himself and now it’s out there. And it’s fine. 

It’s not everyone, it’s not the league, but it’s everyone who matters most and it’s fine.

•

“So.” Emil starts, kicking at him while they’re both sprawled out on the couch, beers in hand, watching some far too depressing Swedish movie.  
“So.” Elias kicks back.  
_“So,_ who is he?”  
“Who is who?”  
“Who has my baby brother wiling away the summer fucking _pining_ -“  
“I am _not_ pining, you prick-“  
“You are.”  
“Who even speaks like that? What are you trying to fool into thinking you’re smart? I know you too well.“  
“You can’t just avoid the question, you know.”

And- yeah. No, he really can’t. Once his brother has an idea in his head, that’s about how things are going to go.

Elias tells him. 

Elias tells him _everything_. 

•

“Wow.”  
“Yeah.”  
“You’re kind of a dick, dude.”  
“Shut up, you think I don’t know that already?”  
“No, come on. What are you going to do about it?”  
“I don’t know. I don’t know, it’s not like everything just goes away, you know?” Emil nods. “I still feel freaked out but- I don’t want to. I want to try, at least. With him.”  
“Trying sounds good.” Emil affirms, and, yeah, it does. 

•

The thing about trying? It’s a lot easier said than done. He’s had weeks between telling his brother this is what he wants and the start of pre-season to decide how he wants to do things but- here he is, without much more of a clue than he started with.

Training camp has gone well, maybe there’s some distance between them but mostly it feels like it did before they started this- whatever it is. 

It’s really, really not enough, and Elias has ended up here, knocking at Brock’s hotel room door wondering if they even still do this. If it’s still okay (if it was ever okay).

•

It’s still something they do, apparently, but it’s definitely not the same. A little quieter, more held back. Guilt and want gnaw at Elias chest in some horrible, desperate mess. Make him stupid, make him want to take bigger risks than he’s ready to commit to, give Brock anything he wants just to feel him open up again. 

•

•

•

Maybe he’s a little pathetic, but really Brock can’t say no when Elias asks if he wants to come by, later. 

He does, apparently, have some self-preservation left- he’s not going to call it dignity, that ship has sailed- because when he sits up to fish his clothes off the floor and Elias reaches out and says “You should stay.” He manages not to immediately give in. If just barely. 

“You want me to stay.”  
“Yeah.” Elias swallows and Brock tracks the bob of his Adam’s apple. “Please?”  
“I- yeah. Yeah, of course. Just, are you asking because you feel bad, or because you actually want me to?” It’s hard to make himself ask, he doesn’t want to face the possibility that Elias is only asking because he feels bad for him, doesn’t think he’d do that, but- he needs to know, otherwise he’s just going to wonder. 

It’s quiet long enough to make him antsy, but when he shifts to get up again Elias finally speaks. 

“I want you to stay. I’m- I do feel bad, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

It’s tempting to push, to ask for more, now that they’re finally talking about this, but- Brock stays. It can wait a little longer.

He’s half expecting Elias to be tentative and keep a distance once he settles back into the bed, baby steps, but instead he pulls them together, pressing up against his back and exhaling like he’s relieved to have him there. It makes the ache in Brock’s chest ease into something warm and he lets himself relax back against him. 

•

The next morning, Brock still feels a little like he’s holding his breath. Waiting for Elias to freak out and go cold again, decide he’s made a mistake, letting Brock get close, but it never comes. He’s a little tentative, a little skittish, maybe, but it seems like if anything he’s more nervous Brock is the one who’s going to change his mind about being here.

So, Brock suggests they hit up the iHop a couple blocks over before practice. 

Elias’ quiet smile leaves him without any doubts, he’s never seen anyone look so pleased at the suggestion of mediocre pancakes.

•

•

•

Elias buys two tickets to a movie he remembers Brock getting excited about when they saw the trailer a few weeks ago and tells himself it doesn’t have to mean anything concrete, it’s just him doing what he’d promised himself he would. Just trying. Doing better. 

It’s getting easier and easier to admit to himself that he’s trying for _something_ that’s perhaps not so undefined as he’s been telling himself up til now. 

He still has moments, of course. It’s still scary, the idea of being himself. Of being them. But Brock is- fuck, Brock is so, so worth it. He’s more than Elias ever let himself think he’d get a chance with, and for whatever reason he seems to want to give him that chance, still, after everything. Maybe that’s intimidating, but Elias has never been the type to let a little intimidation stop him, he’s definitely not going to start now. 

Besides, if he wasn’t brave enough for this, he wouldn’t be good enough for Brock, anyways, and he really, really wants to be good enough. 

•

•

•

When Elias asks him if he wants to go see a movie on an off day and reveals, a little pink in the cheeks, that he already bought tickets when Brock asks what he was thinking of seeing, Brock realizes all at once that this, what they’ve been doing, feels a lot like _dating_. Like, actual, proper, dating, not just hooking up with a friend until you find yourself in an emotional grey area. They haven’t even had sex in a couple weeks and he’s assumed it’s because they’ve been on a bit of a losing streak, all tired out, but it’s not like they haven’t been hanging out and- he has to wonder. 

When they get to the theatre and he asks Elias how he knew this is what he’d wanted to see, Elias looks away and explains he’d mentioned it a few weeks ago and- yeah. Yeah, this is definitely a date. 

•

It’s not the last one, either, and as much as he loves Elias doing his level best to _woo_ him, it can only go on so long before Brock has to step it up and bring the romance. He’s over Elias feeling sorry, now he just wants him to feel good. 

•

They go to playland, even though it’s too cold for it, and ride the rides until both their faces are going numb from the sting of the cold air whipping against their skin and when Elias wobbles into him after they’re off the roller coaster, Brock says fuck it, and takes his hand. He wouldn’t be mad if Elias pulled away, it’s in public, after all, and they still haven’t really talked about this, but Elias just stays leant into him and squeezes back. 

•

•

•

Elias comes home still feeling dizzy with adrenaline, from the rides or from Brock’s company, it’s hard to say, but the buzz under his skin turns to something sharp immediately when he finds Goldie sitting on his couch, waiting for him. They’d had plans to hang out, he’d completely forgotten, and after today, especially- he feels both put on edge and kind of like a terrible friend, all at once. 

“Sorry, man. I completely spaced. How long have you been here?” He does his best to sound level as he kicks off his boots and tosses his coat onto a stool at the kitchen island, walking over to drop down onto the far end of the couch.  
“It’s no big deal, only been here a little while.” Elias nods and neither of them really talk for a minute. He’s not sure why things feel as tense as they do, whether it’s just him projecting, until-  
“So, you and Brock?” That horrible, old, familiar panic tries to claw its way up his chest and strangle his words but- Elias is tired. He’s tired of pretending he doesn’t want what- who he wants, and he’s tired of having to wonder which of his friends would still be his friends if they really knew him.  
“Yeah, me and Brock. I mean- I hope so, at least.”

“That’s cool.” Goldie nods, and it’s clear he’s trying hard for casual, but it doesn’t seem insincere, even if strained. After another long moment, he follows, a little more avidly, with “I’m sorry. About before, you know?” Elias has to swallow down the first things that come to him. It’s- it wouldn’t do either of them any good to say it now, and Goldie is clearly trying, he’s just glad he’s not going to lose his best friend, even if it takes them a while to get back to where they were.  
“It’s okay, man. I get it.”  
“No, it’s not okay. Seriously I’m- it’s just back home-“ He cuts himself off, sounding frustrated.  
“I get it. Really, I- it wasn’t good, what you said, but we’re both here now, right? Both doing better?” There’s a minute where Goldie still looks frustrated, like there’s something he wants to say but can’t find the words for- a feeling Elias knows well, but eventually he sighs, letting go of whatever it’d been, and smiles, if a little chagrined.  
“Yeah, doing better. I promise."

•

•

•

He’s hardly even thinking about It when he asks Elias if he wants to come up to the cabin for Christmas, knowing Elias isn’t going to get see any of his family. Doesn’t really realize it until the stall next to him has gone quiet and a little bolt of fear grips his heart. He looks over to find Elias standing there, staring at him with an expression he can’t quite place. 

He turns away to look at his phone and for a minute Brock feels like he’s made the same mistake, read things wrong _again,_ somehow but-

“What day are you flying out? Tuesday or Wednesday?” And- he’s looking at _flights_ -  
“Petey, you don’t have to do it _now-“  
_“Shut up. Tell me what flight you’re on so I can book the same one.” The look on Elias’ face tells him that whatever his face is doing, it’s given away how pleased he is, and he really can’t pretend to be bothered by that. 

His hopes are officially up, and he’s pretty sure that’s alright, this time. 

•

•

•

The last few games pass quick, they always do, it seems like no time at all before Elias is double checking his suitcase and heading over to Brock’s so they can get to the arena together. They play the Oilers and he and Brock are leaving for the airport right after, so they’d figured they’d take one car.

They beat the Oilers 4-2 on the last game before Christmas, Brock squeezes his hand in the parking lot on the way into the airport and Elias- he’s not an overly sentimental person, but this feels like he’s on the cusp of something special. Something important. 

•

By the time they land it’s already past midnight, and Brock’s cabin is far enough out that once they reach it they pretty much crash immediately. 

They sleep late, and it’s amazing, take their time showering and by the time they’ve vaguely assembled themselves into human beings and tossed up the Christmas tree- an ordeal that left Elias with more glitter on his person than he’d like to deal with in a lifetime- it’s about lunchtime and therefore time to head over to Brock’s parent’s place. This year, Brock is having Christmas at his cabin, which means his mom is spending Christmas Eve teaching him how to make a few things and it’s kind of adorable. Brock swears he’s a quick study, and Elias has his doubts, he’s eaten food Brock cooked before, but there’s not a lot that could ruin this for him, cooking mishaps included. 

Elias isn’s sure what he’s going to be meant to do while they’re busy, but at the moment he’s more or less occupied, trying to pretend like he’s not nervous about spending Christmas with his family and coping with it by criticizing Brock’s music choices, banning him from the bluetooth in his own car. 

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, you know?” Perhaps he hasn’t been terribly subtle.  
“What? I’m not worried.”  
“Dude, my family has already met you. They love you.” Elias groans.  
“Yeah, but they haven’t met me as-“ Fuck. He can feel his face going red. What was he even going to say? _He_ doesn’t even know what they are. Haven’t met him as what? That repressed guy their son was sleeping with and is now- courting? Being courted by? Jesus Christ. _No._

“Elias.” Brock says, voice torn somewhere between reassuring and amused as he reaches out over the centre console to take Elias’ hand. He appreciates that Brock is holding back his laughter. He really does. “They love you. Seriously. As anything. It’s going to be fine.” 

•

Of course, Brock is right, and it drives Elias absolutely insane. 

Brock is so at home, here. So at ease and full of love with he has no compunctions about letting that shine through around Elias, maybe even _for_ Elias, to some degree, and he can’t think of anything he wants more than to make him feel this way all the time. He wants to give Brock a piece of home he can take with him to Vancouver. Or- better yet, he wants to be the piece of home Brock takes with him, wherever they go. Wants them to have that in each other and it feels far too possible not to be painful. 

His parents are lovely and treat Elias like part of the family. He can see the looks they get, sometimes, like they’re cluing into whatever it is that Elias doesn’t have a name for, but they don’t push it. Jessica and Paul, on the other hand, sweet as they are, seem to be on a mission to make one or both of them spontaneously combust without actually saying anything outright, and the whole thing reminds him of his own family in a way that has his heart pulling in his chest. 

Brock picks up on it, easy enough. Pulls him into a hug when they get a moment and lingers there, tucked into his shoulder. It’s grounding, and even once Brock is gone back to the kitchen, he can still feel him there.

•

They head back to the cabin long after the sun has set, stuffed full and a little tipsy. They hang around in front of the tv for a while, draped against each other without much thought, and eventually Elias’ family texts him and he has to get up and FaceTime his family. He doesn’t go far, but figures at least being upright is the least he could do. 

Christmas Eve is when celebrations are in full swing back home, and he misses his family right up until Brock pops up behind him to say hello and his brother says something that has both his parents scolding him and Elias thanking his lucky stars he had the decency to at least say it in Swedish. 

•

•

•

When they finally head to bed, alone, Brock can’t get his mind to go quiet. For once, it doesn’t feel worrisome. 

When they’d been in the kitchen alone together, his mum had done exactly what he’d both expected and feared, and wasted no time asking him about Elias. 

•

_“It’s nothing, mum.”  
_ _“Come on, sweetheart. I’ve got eyes and it doesn’t take much to see that’s not true.” Brock ends up grinning despite himself.  
_ _“It’s nothing **yet** , then.”  
_ _“Mhmm. You sure about that?”  
_ _“Yeah, it’s- Elias- it’s all new for him, is all. We’re going slow.”  
_ _“Well, don’t take it too slow, kid. You two both look like you’re about sick with it, I’m not sure how long this can go on before one of you keels over.”_

•

And- yeah. Yeah. Brock feels a little alone, in bed without Elias here, but he thinks back to what Elias didn’t say in the car- what he might have if they'd had the words for it, thinks about how he’d squeezed his hand in the park and how he’d bought tickets to a movie Brock had mentioned wanting to see weeks earlier and knows he’s not going to have to feel that way much longer. 

•

•

•

Elias wakes up feeling both incredibly relaxed and giddy for Christmas in a way he hasn’t in years. They’ve already planned to spend the day cooking- Brock’s mum had stocked the kitchen with all the groceries they’d need for Christmas dinner before they’d gotten in- and by cooking Elias assumes Brock means he’ll be cooking and bossing Elias around to clean up whatever havoc he wreaks in the process. Perhaps chopping some veggies if he’s deemed worthy. 

He’s strangely excited at the prospect of it, and he may or may not have also planned to do a tiny bit of baking himself. 

•

It’s about as chaotic as he expected. 

It’s also achingly domestic. 

•

Elias throws some sandwiches together for lunch and when he tentatively asks if Brock could be persuaded to give up one of the ovens for an hour or two because he brought what he needs to make a simple holiday desert from home, the look on Brock’s face is too much and he’s got to look away. 

•

The dinner goes well, despite immense chirping from all around the table that they feared the worst when Brock decided to host. The food is, surprisingly, more than edible. He wouldn’t say any of it has come out pretty, but it tastes good and that’s all that matters. Everyone is simply pleased enough to be there that not much else is important, tonight. 

When he brings out desert and Brock announces that it’s a special dish he made from back home, Elias supposes it’s just as well that he goes red since he would be when everyone tells him how delicious it is, anyways, and even more so when Brock slings an arm over his chair and runs his fingers through the fine hairs at the base of his neck. It takes all his self control not to shiver very inappropriately at the table.

•

After dinner, everyone’s seated around the wooden coffee table by the fireplace, stuffed full and tipsy when Jessica declares it’s time for presents. Elias and Brock had left the ones they brought in the car, hadn’t managed to find the time or will to get them wrapped, so they trudge out to the car to grab them and Elias makes the executive decision that they should grab some more firewood, as well, so they don’t have to leave the cabin for anything until well past noon, tomorrow.

Brock has his arms full of split logs, Elias is carrying the large box they’d managed to get all the presents inside and he just about trips up the steps and upends the entire thing when Brock calls his name.

“Wait, Elias.” He turns to face him once he’s regained his footing, and the look on Brock’s face has Elias nearly dropping the box of presents in his arms. “I just- why didn’t you come? Last summer.”

Elias can only imagine he must look like an idiot, cause it’s not the question he was ready for, but-

“I was scared.”  
“Are you still scared?”  
“Maybe a little but- I-“ He takes a deep, steadying breath “I told my family I’m gay.” It’s the first time he’s actually said it, in such clear terms, out loud. It feels a little freeing. A little strange. “And I told Goldie, about us.”  
“So there’s something to tell, then?” And Brock’s grinning like an idiot, like he’s cracking a joke, but Elias can tell that there’s still a part of him that thinks Elias is going to say no and he just can’t accept that so he puts the box to the side, probably not nearly as carefully as he should, and tugs Brock forward by the shoulders to do what he’s been dying to do for months. He kisses him.

It takes hardly a beat for Brock to get with the program then the stupid logs are clattering against the porch deck and Elias is being shoved up against the door so Brock can dig his hands into his hair and-

•

•

•

-and just when they’re getting going the door opens up and they tumble right down onto the wooden floor, feet still sticking out the door, much to the startled amusement of everyone looking down at them. Brock worries, for half a second, that Elias might be freaked out but when he looks down he’s- well, red. Really, really red, but he also looks happy like Brock maybe hasn’t ever seen him and it’s enough for him to bury his face in his shoulder and allow himself to be caught up in the sheer, giddy embarrassment of the moment. 

“We heard something fall outside.” Paul drawls as Brock pulls back to help Elias up to his feet. “Thought maybe you guys needed help. We see now you were doing just fine on your own, though."

**Author's Note:**

> The most unrealistic thing about this story? Elias finding a last-minute flight on the same day as Brock around Christmas. Hope you enjoyed reading this, it was a lot of fun to write 💙💚 It came out a LOT different than initially planned, but hopefully still something along the lines of what you were hoping for!
> 
> **P.S.** _if you're reading this: I decided to make this s l i g h t l y (a lot) pornier at the last possible moment, so check back in a few hours and that'll be in here, too_ 👀


End file.
